Tainted Hate
by FemaleSpock
Summary: Sinedd thinks he's found a way into Artegor's good books but not all goes to plan. Pairings: Artegor/Sinedd, Aarch/Artegor mentioned. Set during S1.


Tainted Hate

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction. **

**Set a little while after Sinedd joined the Shadows, before he got the Smog. Not sure about the rating, it's a T at present. **

He hadn't summoned Sinedd to his office nor had Sinedd made an appointment (although he didn't suppose Sinedd was much the appointment-making type), so he was quite at a loss to explain why Sinedd was lounging (in the Coach's chair no less) his feet up on the table.

"Sinedd," his teeth gritted, irritation rising in his voice like Smog. He was used to complete respect for his authority from his team members, they'd all learned that it was better for their sakes not to challenge him.

"What you said in practice earlier, about kicking me off the team…" he started, glowering.

Artegor thought back, his memory a strange haze as ever, and dimly recalled saying such a thing. He'd given it no thought, he said such things on such a regular basis that it was difficult to keep track, but Sinedd had clearly attached great significance to a comment merely meant to push him to work harder.

'_Of course it bothers him,'_ he thought, with clarity that was rare for him. _'It would have bothered you too and he's got nowhere else to go. This is it for him.'_

A cruel smile touched his lips because it could only work to his advantage. If Sinedd was forever in fear of being cut then he'd be so much easier to control, easier to mould to his purpose.

"…there has to be something I can do…" Sinedd continued, his tone changing.

Artegor could hear the slightest hint of nerves in his voice despite Sinedd's efforts to sound…well…he couldn't quite tell what tone Sinedd was going for…pleading? Smarmy? Neither seemed quite right. He barely spoke to anyone about anything that wasn't related to football or his desire to crush Aarch, add to that long term Smog-addiction, and it was no wonder he struggled with human interaction. His perspective had become so warped, he'd long lost track of what was real and what was all just in his head.

Sinedd got out of the chair, stepping forward into Artegor's personal space to the point where it could be considered intrusive. Almost anyone else would have stepped back but Artegor would not allow himself to be threatened by a mere boy; Artegor held all the cards and Sinedd knew it.

"Something? Other than getting the Smog?" he queried, because it seemed that Sinedd was not going to explain himself without prompting.

Sinedd brought his face even closer to Artegor's, to the point where their noses were touching.

It's only then that it occurs to Artegor that Sinedd might be coming on to him.

It's a strange prospect made less strange by the fact that it was abundantly clear that Sinedd was only trying to keep his place on the team. Even with his limited self-awareness, Artegor knew that he was no candidate for anyone's fantasy (or else why would Aarch have left?). No, it was purely goal-directed behaviour on Sinedd's part.

The only question was, what would he get out of it?

Still, he was interested enough to move in closer to bridge the gap and make contact. Sinedd was a decent kisser, not brilliant, but it wasn't Sinedd's first either- or that was what Artegor would have thought if he was thinking analytically. But all he could think of was Aarch and their first kiss, so long ago. The two kisses are really nothing alike but his brain makes the comparison regardless.

There was really no-where he could go, nothing he could do, to escape the spectre of Aarch and although he had chosen Sinedd because he recognised himself in him, the boy suddenly seemed entirely too Aarch-like for his liking. Aarch had used him to further his own ambitions too.

Sinedd broke the kiss, slowly, getting on his knees. His manner was distant, neither repulsed nor aroused, as he pulled down the zip of Artegor's trousers; it clearly wasn't his first time at this either.

He wanted this so badly now, wanted to close his eyes and let his imagination take over again, so that he could have Aarch all over again.

Instead, he pushed Sinedd back, zipping his fly back up.

"That's enough, go now," he said, brusquely.

Sinedd stood up, looking slightly disconcerted.

"Your place on the team is safe for now, just go!"

Sinedd did as he was told, having got what he came for, and not wishing to antagonise Artegor further. He wasn't sure what was going on in Artegor's mind, he was sure that Artegor had wanted it, but he didn't really care, as long as he got to stay on the team- if he didn't have to get his mouth dirty then that was just a bonus.

Artegor crumpled into a chair; feeling tired and grey all of a sudden. It hadn't been any sense of morality that had stopped Artegor, that Sinedd was young and under his care had barely even entered his mind, he couldn't be considered to be pure in any sense of the word; even his hatred wasn't completely pure, it was flecked with the remnants of love and the_ hurt_ that it had caused him. And that was why he had stopped because the thought of admitting to himself that he still felt anything, other than untainted hatred, for Aarch was utterly unbearable.

Even if it was true.

**That's it for this fic. I feel like I kind of have to justify Sinedd's characterisation in this fic, in the series he has a pattern of behaviour in which he follows the wishes of older males (Bleylock, Harris etc.) because he feels that he can get something out of them, I guess I was taking that to an extreme here. Basically, I just hope it wasn't too OOC, it kind of seemed strange that we didn't have any Sinedd/Artegor fics (as far as I know) so I kind of wanted to write one to remedy that. Okay, I'll shut up now. Review please!**


End file.
